


Hats- a Moried (Derek Morgan X Spencer Reid) Criminal Minds High School AU

by Twisted_Time



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Leaves ya' on a cliff hanger, M/M, Self-Harm, Slightly Abusive Parent, Trigger Warning in Chapter Eight, abandoned work, fluff with a bit of angst, mild panty kink, what point of view?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23290027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Time/pseuds/Twisted_Time
Summary: Excerpt:Hats have always been popular. However, ever since human D.N.A has been re-written the interest in hats have sky-rocketed. Not only do schools- well, most of them- allow your head to be adorned with the winter guard system, but they promote them. See, us humans are flawed in many ways but our biggest one is our emotions. So as a defense we evolved to have our emotions written on our sleeve....well... kind of. We evolved only one string, one code in our D.N.A. The one that decides what color your hair appears. This wouldn't be such an issue if the color was steady. However when I, Spencer Reid, was being beat up at our public high school by the biggest jock and my hair turned hot pink, I knew this was going to get very brutal very quickly. Well, if you don't consider kicking me in the stomach while the whole football team watches brutal.Disclaimer: I do not own this original idea, nor do I own Criminal Minds or the characters of Criminal Minds. All credit to the aforementioned goes to the rightful owners/creators.If you know me in real life, please never mention this.
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	1. Author's Note

I would like to start this off by apologizing. Unlike my other work I have published here, this piece is not complete. However, I have had this draft for two years now and I am really, really stuck. I decided to send this out due to it being close to the new year. I'm hesitant to say I have abandoned this work, because if inspiration hits I will try my best. I will also forewarn you by telling you I left it in an inconvenient spot, so I am sorry for that as well. The other apology (in this section) is that these are terribly short chapters.

This is my first time writing an Alternative Universe work, so please be gentle. As always, I am open to correcting any errors one might find.

A word of caution: there is self-harm depicted in this story, and I want everyone reading this to be safe and please use your best judgement when you stumble across those passages.

Disclaimer: I do not own this original idea, nor do I own Criminal Minds or the characters of Criminal Minds. All credit to the aforementioned goes to the rightful owners/creators.


	2. Chapter One

Hats have always been popular. However, ever since human D.N.A has been re-written the interest in hats have sky-rocketed. Not only do schools- well, most of them- allow your head to be adorned with the winter guard system, but they promote them. See, us humans are flawed in many ways, but our biggest one is our emotions. So as a defense we evolved to have our emotions written on our sleeves...well....kind of. We evolved only one string, one code in our D.N.A. The one that decides what color your hair appears. This wouldn't be such a problem if the color was steady. However when I, Spencer Reid, was being beat up at our public high school by the biggest jock and my hair turned hot pink, I knew this was going to get very brutal very quickly. swell, if you don't consider kicking me in the stomach while the whole football team watches brutal.

I expect all of the team to join in, but instead it stops. The beatings completely stops. Not a sound. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of how labored my breathing actually is. I take advantage of this second when the world completely stopped and curled up. I know better than to try and get up, let alone run, from my attackers. Most people have their own group of supporters, their group of friends. Not me, though. Nope. I land myself with my own group of never-ending tormentors. I hear a deep intake of breathe and prepare myself for another blow that doesn't come.

As I am walking home I try to think of the normal excuses. If my parent even asks, that is. My mother is a classified schizophrenic but still lives at home. My father, well, I never really knew him but he left when I was five. I'm not exactly sure where I stand with emotions about him, but I am aware he left my mother due to something she cannot control. I try and keep my feelings mutual, but somethings I cannot control. Like when my hair turned hot pink while jock Derek Morgan was beating me up.

God, I will never be able to live that down. It's Friday, so at least I'll be able to have two days of semi-peace. The lights are on. When I walk to school this morning mother was more in control of herself that normal. I think she's off her medicines again.... which reminds me I should make sure she's taking them. When I near my house I make sure my head is down further and start to walk a bit quicker. Loud music violates my ears and make me feel cornered again. As I hear a door open, I shove my hat past my ears, successfully hiding the hair atop my head and practically run home. Out of the corner of my eye I see a chocolate skinned figure and hear a faint 'Hey! Kid, wait up!' but instead, I actually start running. It's not until I have my face shoved against my own front door by a pair of strong brown hands do I stop.

"Kid, I thought I told you to hold up. Just what do you think your doing?"

"Um-uh, I-uh, I-I'm going home......sir?" Then I fell a pull and another push, and suddenly my satchel is on the ground, my hands pinned above me and a mouth by my ear. My face flushes, then turns a shade of red that would make a tomato be put to shame.

"Wrong. Listen up, you are going to go inside and take me up to your room."


	3. Chapter Two

Blinking, I reevaluate the situation. Derek Morgan has me pinned to my own door, reeking of alcohol. His body is flush against mine, and he's asking-no, telling- me to let him inside. Derek slams my back into the door and repeats himself again.

" _Did you hear me?"_

There's tears in my eyes, and he's holding my hands so tight the circulation is being cut off. I'm brought back to reality by the sounds of breaking glass, and my eyes go wide. My voice is back, and It's loud and clear.

"Let go of me! Get the fuck off! I-I need- LET GO DEREK!" I rip my hands from his own, and push against his chest. He's stunned just enough to allow me to get in the door, slam and lock it. Yet, there is no time for me to take a breathe. "Mom!-Mom? Mom, where are you?"

"Spencer Reid, you get out of here! You're very bad! You aren't supposed to be in here! Get out! This is my work place!" Moving into action, Spencer runs and hugs his mother from behind, trying to immobilize her arms from throwing another plate. Unfortunately, though, she still manages to hit my forearm with a piece of broken plate and now I'm bleeding. Mom seems to be calming down, and it's only after I've put her to bed and given her the prescribed medicine do I hear the fists banging on the front door.

Looking through the eye hole, I see Derek is the source of the commotion. Getting my defenses up, I unlock the door. Immediately the door is slammed open. I wince spitting out a "What do you want?"

Dereks eyes go straight to Spencers arm. " I heard screaming, thought something as wrong. And I am right. Who hurt you?!"

"Nothing is wrong." My head and eyes go towards the ground, moving my injury out of his line of sight. "Anyways, please leave. I-I came out here to get my things and to tell you to be quiet. My mother is sleeping, and rather wouldn't wake her. So please-" I'm, once again, cut off. Derek Morgan forces the door out of my grip, looking at the after math of my mothers episode. He moves his eyes around the living room, shaking his head and I can see him trying to connect dots to each other that are not there.

"You are either coming with me or I'm staying here. I'm not leaving you here alone."

"No!- You have the wrong-" I'm grabbed by the arm and practically flung against the staircase.

 _"Grab your clothes before I do it for you and get your fine ass outside before I drag you. You have five minutes._ You're staying at my house for the weekend."


	4. Chapter Three

I'm in tears, but its not like I have a choice. I follow his orders. because in the past twenty four hours I've been hurt enough. I trip up the stars, collecting clothes, books, homework, everything I should need. Dereks house is only three houses down, so an escape should be easy. Going into my attached bathroom I bandage my forearm then grabbed the bag that contained my possessions and jotted down multiple notes. I put one next to my mothers side, another in the bathroom and the final one on the kitchen table. I'm aware that its been five minutes and forty-seven seconds, but I know that by leaving a mess behind my mom is going to get hurt. Weighing my options I quietly head to the kitchen and grab the broom, cleaning up the broken plate pieces.

It has now been seven minutes and fifty-five seconds, and I open the door to a raging, concerned, Derek Morgan. The man who was kicking me not even four hours ago is now fuming, and I cannot escape is rage. Even worse, now he is dragging me into his now-abandoned house (I found myself wondering how he got the whole party gone in such a short amount of time, but I wasn't going to ask) and forcing me to stay the weekend.


	5. Chapter Four

The house was to the standards of a parties aftermath. Beer cans and bottles were askew, and abandoned bags of chips along with other snacks were cluttering tables and furniture. Alcohol and the stink of sweat reeked in the air, making it stale and bitter. Morgan went from the front door to the stairs. I assumed that was his leave, that he was going to bed. Clutching my satchel bag, I started to clear off one of the couches, placing potato chip bags on the coffee table and swiping stray crumbs and what I hoped was only alcohol off the couch.

"Nuh-uh. I'm not that dumb. You're not gonna get out of my sight that easily." Dereks voice made me jump. His voice was one an adult might use on the kid trying to get to the cookie jar, and that made Spencer shy down even more.

"I think I'd be happier if I just- stayed down here tonight. I really rather wouldn't be anywhere near yo-" I put my hand over my mouth in an attempt not to embarrass myself further. As Derek approached me, I secured the had down further again.

I winced and blushed when he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "I didn't ask. Now get that twink ass of yours up those stairs or I'll carry you." His face was hot next to mine, and all traces of alcohol was gone from his breathe.

Against my best will, I froze. _'Di-Did Derek Morgan just hit on me?'_


	6. Chapter Five

One thing you can always count on Derek for is to follow through on a promise.

As promised, I was swiped off my feet and carried up the stairs like a newly wed. My satchel dug into my side at an awkward angle. I didn't have to look to know that my hair is bright pink, as well as my face and neck. While traveling up the stairs, Derek almost dropped me- whether it was faked or real I couldn't tell- and as a reaction my arms flew to his neck, and turned my head to his chest.

"Yup. You're totally a twink. No way you're a top." He was smirking one of his trademarks. My silence and awkwardness seemed to only reassure him.

"I mean, it makes sense why you would just take the beatings you're delivered. I'm just wondering-" We had gotten to the top of the stars and I immediately pushed out of Dereks grasp.

"It's Not like that! You just decided to care too much at an unopportunistic time! So don't you even try! You've been beating me for _how many_ years? Plus, do you even _realize_ how hard it is for me to cover the bruises and gashes you've been the producer for? _So don't you even try to tell me about taking a beating._ So, _shut the fuck up!_ Let me go home and LEAVE. ME. ALONE!" I was fuming, hair pulsing red and tears were at he corners of my eyes. My throat was sore from my volume, and I felt embarrassed. Realization dawned on my and fear took me over. I had just stood up to my childhood bully, in his own home, cornered, and been completely honest.

Spencer wanted to bolt. Every instinct inside him was telling him to run, to get out of here and avoid Derek at all costs and expenses. But, the arm around his waist and the sob racking though his body kept him from doing so. His mind was lashing out at him again, telling him all the backlash and accidents with incidents that would follow from his stupid little outburst. Spencer needed to escape. He needed to be home. He needed to see his mother. But he knows he is trapped and hardly has a chance of escaping. So Spencer did what was normal for him. What he is used to.

Spencer Reid shut down. He curled into the ball he would normally when around Derek Morgan and utterly shuts down.


	7. Chapter Six

Derek was panicking. Though he'd never admit it, he was very concerned about Reid. He and his boys liked to kick him around, and Derek always thought Reid could take it. As he witnessed the raw terror in Reids eyes come through, his heart ached. But, as with all the other times, he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind. Reid was having a panic attack right now, and needs to be tended too. He'll sort out the whole crush thing later and confront it then.

Instinctively, Derek bear hugged Reid to prevent him from lashing out and hurting himself or Derek.

"Reid! It's okay! Just calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you! You're safe. Shhh, you're safe. I'm not gonna let anybody hurt you! I'm here. It's okay! That's right, calm down. Shhh. Go to sleep. Yeah, go to sleep. I'm here. Nobody's going to hurt you. It's okay." Gradually Spencer wore himself out, and only after tucking him into his bed and drifting off to sleep on him floor next to the bed did he realize what he just said.

'Shit. I think I'm in love. How am I going to explain this? Fuck it, I'm going to bed. We can figure this out in the morning.'

~

The sleep Derek was hoping for didn't last long. Spencer was screaming and kicking in his sleep, trying to fight off demons or people, Derek would probably never know. However, at that thought Derek suddenly felt the deep rooted pain from last night crawl over him again. There is a scratching sound, and suddenly it clicks to Derek that it's not the girl form ' _The Ring'_ on the ceiling, but rather Spencer seeking comfort- even unconsciously- in harming himself. Tears are prickling his vision and he wishes it was the girl instead. Had Derek and the rest of the team really driven Spencer to this?

The screaming and scratching and crying increased in volume, along with Dereks worry. Once again, the only way he knew hot to stop Spencer from injuring himself was physical contact. Carefully moving so one sweep of his arm will stop Reid, Derek pounces. With one arm around Reids back and another on his side, Derek is (once again) holding onto Reids waist.

 _' I could get used to this,'_ was the last thought that crossed Dereks mind before sleep consumed him.


	8. Chapter Seven

Spencer realized two things immediately when he woke up;

A) He was not in his bed, and

B) He could get used to the arms around his hips.

Spencer then realized one more thing; that things were going to get awkward quickly. Trying to wiggle out of Dereks grasp, he stopped cold. In front of his face is a growling white English bulldog.

Unconsciously, Dereks grip on him tightened and he groans. "Clooney, shut up." His voice was low and gravely, which sends a shiver down Spencers spine that he hopes Dereks sleep-state did not register. The half-moan half-groan that comes out of Dereks mouth is all the evidence he needs to know his wish had not been granted. Dereks arms around Spencers waist move, and then freeze as the go over Spencers stiff fifth appendage.

"S-Sorry. I, uh, Sorry." His voice is weak and laced with both embarrassment and fear.

Derek says nothing, just rustles Reids hair and get out of bed. "C'mon, Clooney. You big baby. Lets go make breakfast for our guest." A pause, then, "Eggs or pancakes. Pretty Boy?"

"Uh-Neither? Can I go home?"

"Eggs or pancakes?"  
A defeated "No thank-you" has Derek concerned. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay. I'm still going to eat, take a shower or whatever. C'mon, Clooney." Derek and the bulldog leave the room, and Reid bolts to the bathroom. He locks the door and then takes a second to think everything through. Its only Saturday morning, and Reid has homework to do. His mother is alone, and that's worrying him to a huge extent.


	9. Chapter Eight

Only a few select people knew about Dianas condition, and Spencer intended to keep it that way until he was 18. Spencer had read (and memorized- wonderful eidetic memory!) the law books, and he knew the rules. Until he was 18, he couldn't do anything to help her. That though was the one that always drew Spencer to these moments, the ones searching for sharp, piercing object that don't hesitate to break skin.

Spencer knew he shouldn't be doing this, he knew it was stupid. He knew what would happen if word ever got out about this, but he also knew one thing many others don't. He knows the relief and the control the feeling of breaking skin brought with it. He knows the calming transfix of feeling the blood running down his hips, his arms, wherever he felt most control over. But he also knows something that other people like him probably didn't. He knew where to cut, where not to cut, and the depth he could go without bleeding himself out. Spencer has never intended to kill himself while doing this act, but he was poised to harm.

Spencer realized another thing; only after it was a bit too late. He'd taken a shower, and was met with the relief of not having an active appendage anymore. At the same time, he was also met with another realization; he'd left his bag on the stairs last night. His clothes from yesterday were strewn on the floor, wet because Spencer did not want to slip on the ceramic tiles.

Realization slapped him in the face. He had two options, ask for help and seem weak or risk exposure and run to get it. Wrapping a beach towel around himself, Spencer opened the adjoined door to Dereks room. His plan was to go to the room door and shout from there. However, that was interrupted by a note on the bed.

_'Why do ya' always dress uptight? Not in this house. Here you go. -Derek Morgan'_

"I don't dress uptight!" Spencer murmured. His anger was short lived when he heard foot steps coming up the stairs. Like a deer in the headlights, Spencer jumped into the safety of the bathroom with his clothes and closed the door just as Derek walked in. After a few seconds, Spencer poked his head though the door- making sure _nothing else_ showed. "Can I _please_ have my satchel back? Your clothes do not fit me and I don't feel comfortable wearing them. Please?"

"First you want to leave me, then you deny my breakfast and now you want to tell me what to do? I don't think so." Derek raises an eyebrow at the query that was more a statement, dismissing any and all pleads from Spencers lips. Before he could close the door to get dressed, Morgan walked up and said something that sent chills down Spencers spine and his face aflame.

" _And, no, I'm not giving you a different pair of underwear."_


	10. Chapter Nine

To say Spencer was uncomfortable is an understatement. He now knew why Derek said as he did, and he had to make a choice. Either he was going to have to go commando or, he was going to have to wear the underwear Derek had provided. Those being pink, frilly, ladies panties. Spencers face shown bright red as he moved on from undergarments. The shorts Derek provided were two sizes too big, and hung dangerously low on Spencers hips. They were black and upon putting them on; yet another observation. There were strips of mesh along the outsides of the shorts.

His scars could be seen.

The shorts also went down past Spencers knees. Spencer put the thoughts aside, now focusing on the shirt. It was grey, and went down to his thighs. When he put the shirt on, one shoulder hung off his own. Next he slipped on the shirts, uncomfortable with how exposed he was. A knock on the door startled him, and Spencer absently wiped the tears that had escaped from his eyes against his own will.

"Hey, uh, Spence? You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Listen, if I went to far-" A sob escaped from Spencers lips, and Derek tried to open the door in response. "Gosh, Spence, let me in I went to far, it won't happen again. Just- _let me in!_ "

Spencer didn't even know when he started to cry. He didn't even know why he was crying, so against his (probably) better will, Spencer unlocked and opened the door.

"I went to far, didn't I?" Derek had gotten close to Spencer again, and was clutching his arms with Dereks own.

"No, I'm just being stupid. Can I- Can I re-bandage this? Do you have an emergency kit?" Spencer was still wiping at his eyes, his hair a defeated, bleak, grey. Saying nothing, Derek walked out of the bathroom and returned a few seconds later with the first aid kit in hand.

"Here. Do you want me to help you?"

"No! I-I can do this by myself. Can I be alone?"

"No. I promised to protect you, and in order to do that I cannot let you be alone. I'm here if you need help or are going to do anything. I'm not here to hurt you."

"With all due respect. I don't think you want to see this. If you want to help me, leave me alone." tears were in his eyes again, and panic was arising. Nobody could find out. And most of all, _Derek Morgan- captain of the football team and #1 bully_ could **not** find out. As an answer, Morgan walked towards the bathroom door, closed it and locked it. "Uh, I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be on the other side of the door."

"I'm pretty sure I'm not." Derek cleared a spot and sat with his back against the bathroom door. "Look, I know when somebody is hiding something, and Pretty Boy, you're hiding something. So either put your cards on the table so I can help you-"

"What if I don't need, nor want, your help?" Spencers statement made Derek worried. "How about this, you can go and get me some pain medicine and my satchel, and I'll wrap this up. And no, this is not a request. Its an order." Spencer knew that Derek was used to taking orders, trained like a shoulder that is about to go to war. As predicted. Derek sighed, though it over, got up and went to go get everything. Spencer leaped to the door, locking it and setting a full laundry basket in front of it.

Sitting down on the toilet (lid closed-of course) Spencer opened the first-aid kit. He took out a pair of tweezers, gauze and a bottle of peroxide.

This was going to hurt.

Unwrapping the gauze, Spencer assessed the damage. There was still a bit of glass fragments in the gash, and he grabbed the tweezers, dipping them in the peroxide before taking out the glass. He repeated this process a few more times until all the glass was out of his wound. Then he started to dab up the blood, the new and the old. Spencer knew he had to act fast, because Derek would also be going as fast as he could. He decided to do one final wipe over the wound with a rag dipped in the peroxide. Instinctively Spencer winced at the impact of the rag and teared up. But he knew he could do this. So, Spencer kept up and placed gauze over the wound and wound it up with bandage, using a bit of medical tape to keep it all together.

Derek was knocking again, and Spencer immediately rolled his eyes. "Give me a second." Every trace of crying was already out of Spencers voice. Quickly he put everything back in the kit, throwing away the bloody bandages and putting the laundry basket back. Unlocking the door, he came face to face with Derek.

"Here's you kit back. Thank-you for letting me use it, along with your facilities. However, I think I'll take my leave now. My mother will be wondering where I am and I forgot to bring my medicine here. Thank you, but I'll be taking my leave."

"Wherever you go, I go. So, lets get you home." Derek, once again, moved to carry Spencer.

"Thank-you, but I am fully capable of walking. Please let me at least go into my house alone. If you hear yelling, and you _promise_ to be quiet and calm, you can come in. That okay?"

"Sure. I promise to be calm and quiet. That good?" Derek had a smirk on his face that Spencer didn't fully trust but he did not have an alternative option. Even though the odds of everything being okay with his mother was slim to none, he also knew he needed to check on her.

"Okay, lets go."

"Though, there is a catch."

Spencer licked his lips and rolled his eyes. "And what is that catch?"

"You have to wear the panties all weekend."


	11. Chapter Ten

The way that Spencers face fell as Derek said his sentence made him immediately regret saying it. But, before the regret could roll off his tongue Dereks words were killed.

"Fine. But after I've checked in on my mother. And, because you're being an asshole, _stay out of my house at all costs. No matter what happens you_ WILL NOT _go inside of my house._ I am more of an adult than you'll _ever_ be. Are we clear?" Throughout the conversation, Spencers voice gained more and more venom. To the point in which Derek was wincing at every word, and Spencer was yelling. Due to the fact that Derek paused, in an ice-cold voice Spencer repeated the question. "Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Spencer lead the way to his house aware of the eyes following every movement, from the finger absent mindedly tracing the scars that covered his thighs to taking a step. The pace he set up was one of urgency, but calm enough not to raise suspicion. Spencers mind was racing, thinking about all possibilities that could be awaiting him in the from of his mother on the other side of the wooden door. But one, childish thought stood out. Spencer couldn't count how many times walking home from school he thought that maybe when he walked though the door that everything would be normal. That maybe Diana had just forgotten to pick him up on the way home from one of her lectures. That his father would be getting home as she made supper using ingredients paid with their own money instead of the ones sent to them due to Spencer being underage and Diana having a mental disorder. And every time he walked through he door to find a mess, or his mother having an episode, or everything looking normal because she didn't take her medicine, Spencers heart sunk a bit deeper. Eventually he gave up on his own fake fantasy, leaving the guilt and secret anger until three or four in the morning when he was alone. Always alone.

Opening up the door, he immediately cleared his head. Spencer didn't need to feel that disappointment again. He wasn't five anymore, he was sixteen and knew things weren't going to get better anytime soon. Spencer stepped away from the door, thought better of it, and dead bolted the door. There was singing coming from the kitchen along with the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

"It's about time you join us. Having fun at your boyfriends house?" Dianas voice was laced with sarcasm, and Spencer knew he was walking on thin ice.

"He's not my... boyfriend. What are you trying to find?"

"I need to find the cutting knife so I can chop these onions to put them into the spaghetti sauce."

"Mom, you don't know how to make spaghetti. Also, it's 8:30 AM." As he was saying this, Dianas eyes squinted and her eyebrows bunched together.

"No, Spencer, that's not right. I," She paused, licked her lips and then continued. "That's not right. I know how to make spaghetti." Spencer sensed she was having a moment, and raised his guard up.

Her arms raised up, and she started to repeatedly hit herself in the head. "I KNOW HOW TO! NO!-NO!-NO!" Spencer got close to her, undoing his own fists and raising his arms to grab a hold of hers. "Nonononono! I-Know-I know, I-" A sob racked though her body and she started to cry.

"Mom, it's okay! It's okay, everything's fine!" Spencer had to start yelling, because Dianna had now started to scream a string of incoherent words. He had managed to keep her from hitting herself again, and began to slowly lower her to the floor. "That's right, calm down. Shhh, it's okay. It's okay. Lets get you back in bed. C'mon, lets go." Once Spencer had put her back into the right bed, he took a deep breathe. Stepping back, he walked to the bathroom, opening the cabinet, Spencer took out Dianas sleep pills.

Derek was sat with his back to the door, silent tears starting up again as the screaming started up on the other side of the door. He fiddled with the door knob beside is head to once again confirm that Spencer had locked him out. The fight from the previous night rang through his mind again.

 _"You just decided to care too much at an unopportunistic time! You've been beating me for how may years?"_ Using the word beating instead of bullying made Derek feel ten times worse. Eight years was the answer. Derek and his buddies decided that one day during second grade they wanted to push Reid around. Yes, at first Derek didn't understand or want to, but admitting when you were seven that the quirky dork was cute didn't seem like a good idea. He always though once he hit high school he would be comfortable enough to speak up, but the worry manifested inside him to the point where Derek didn't. Especially once he got onto the football team. Now, Derek was not stupid. Not once did he comment on any of the girls, but struggled to do the same for the males.

Due to the fact that Derek was trained to be an asshole around people that he liked explained why he so quickly shifted from being kind to crying Reid to making him do something he'd never wanted to do.

Like practically kidnapping him and now forcing him to wear panties for a whole two days and a night. Rubbing a hand down his face, Derek failed to hear the door being unlocked and opened. Falling backwards, Dereks head impacted the ground with a 'thump'. Looking up at Reid, the red eyes and lips in a hard line, the evidence stacked up. He had been crying, and his eyes held what could only describe as agonizing defeat.

"I'll be a little bit, you can go home. It won't take me longer than ten minuets."

Before Derek could argue, Spencer was moving his body to help him up. and Derek was relieved that he had shaved his head because if his face flushing wasn't a sign, his would-be pink hair most definitely would've been. When he stood up, Dereks face and neck flushed and he was dazed. Spencer moved to turn around and close the door, but Derek intervened once again.

Spencer let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes as Derek pushed his was in. "Or you could just come in, apparently." A grin spread across Dereks face as he took to looking at the living rooms walls, which were adorned with tall rows of book cases that were filled to the brim.

"I'm going to go get the belongings necessary, so if you could just ... stay here, that would be great." Derek turned around hearing Spencers first few words to make eye contact. but Reid's face and hair were flushed and his honey-dipped brown eyes were down casted, shifting between the space next to Dereks shoes and the floor.

Derek was going to make a remark about whether or not that was an invitation, but decided against it and instead mumbled a small "Okay, I'll be here." Spencers shoulders hunched and Derek had to lick his lips at the sight of Spencers collar bone being exposed due to how big his shirt was on him. As Spencer turned around and moved towards the stairs, Derek drunk in the sight of the way his clothes practically fell off Spencers smaller frame and how every few steps Reid would have to pull up either Dereks shorts or shirt.

His attention went back to the living area and he slowly made his way around the perimeter, eventually stopping at a little coffee table that was shoved in the corner and adorned with what seemed to be little 8X11 picture frames. Most of them were empty, containing the stock-photo-families that came with the frame, but a few were filled with what seemed to be a younger Spencer and a frail-looking woman with beautiful blond hair and crystal-blue eyes. In one the woman and a four-year-old Reid with bulky glasses and one of his front teeth missing were smiling at the camera, laughing. In the next black and white photograph he picked up, a no-more-than three year old Reid was sitting next to a stack of books and laughing while reaching for something behind the lens.

"That one has always been my favorite."

Derek jumped at the sound of the woman's voice and turned around to see a frail-looking short-haired lady with clouded over ice blue eyes looking right at him. She was wearing a fuzzy pink robe that buttoned down the middle, and her feet were bare. "Oh-um-uh-" Derek stammered, his voice gone. "I'm here with Spencer." is all he managed to stutter out, suddenly realizing how weird he must have appeared.

"Oh?" Her right eye-brow rose in question as if she was waiting for another answer to why he was still down here, left in the living room while his 'friend' was clearly upstairs. Feeling stupid and embarrassed, he stuttered an introduction. "I'm Derek Morgan. I live down the street and am the one who-" He was cut off by her voice again. "I'm Diana, Spencers mother. Would you like some coffee?" Then, without waiting for his reply she said- "I'll go put some on. Come, sit down. I'd love to hear how you two met."

Dereks face went red, because he was 80% sure that's only something a mother to a couple would say, but he followed her none the less to the kitchen. Diana maneuvered around the kitchen, opening up every cabinet and drawer. Then she proceeded to open the refrigerator, and suddenly Derek felt that something was terribly off. Why was she opening the fridge for coffee? He tried to convince himself that maybe this was some way to preserve it for longer- like putting bread in the freezer, but after Diana proceeded to empty the fridge by putting everything on the counter, Derek was confused. He was about to ask what she was doing when he heard a sharp intake from the living room. Looking toward the source, Derek found a red-faced, dull yellow-haired Reid. Worry erupted from the center of Dereks chest, because he only saw that color when him/one of his 'buddies' were picking on him. It was the color of caution, hurt, and being scared. Something was definitely wrong, and Derek didn't know what to do.


	12. Chapter Eleven

Spencer slowly made his way downstairs with his backpack, turning towards the living room, determined to tell Derek off about the 'deal' they made before coming to his house, only to find the living room vacant. At the sound of something being placed on the counter in the kitchen, Spencer turned his head to find his Mother in the almost-empty refrigerator and took in a deep breathe. He placed his bag down and looked to see Derek trying to make eye contact. After assessing the situation again, Spencer slowly and quietly mad his way to the vacant chair next to Dereks body.

"I see you've met my Mother, then." His voice was hushed, and Spencer knew how panicked he must appear to be.

"I-uh," Derek stuttered and made a motion with his hands, kind of just gesturing to the entirety of the counter as if it explained the whole situation. Spencer had never seen Derek so flustered and for a second he had to fight a smile back, because if that wasn't kind of hot than he most definitely wasn't kind of pansexual.

Spencer was snapped out of the moment by his Mother, who was now bending down and starting to re-arrange the yogurt on the bottom shelve, hesitating before moving to pull them off the shelve. "Mom?" Diana made this sort of "huh?" sound in the back of her throat in recognition but didn't say anything. Spencer took a huge intake of breathe and looked to Derek in a way he hoped conveyed "I'm sorry for what you're about to witness" and stood up, walking behind his mother. "Have you taken your medicine today? The doctor said-"

At the word "medicine", she stopped moving the yogurt and stood up, looking Spencer directly in his eyes before saying "I know darn well what the evil man said." She dropped her voice down and into a hushed tone whispered "But you know they don't make me feel right, and Spencer Reid, you do _not_ tell me what to do."

Spencers brain was running a million miles per second more than normal because he was really going to do this in clothing that he felt exposed in already, and with Derek sitting right _there_. Diana never liked taking her medicine, so it wasn't like this was a new occurrence, but the audience was. Tears prickled at the edge of Spencers eyes, because nobody was supposed to know about this. Nobody was supposed to know that Diana Reid, Spencers Mother, was a paranoid schizophrenic because that would just be one more side to attack him from, one more way to verbally get to him.

Spencer wiped the tears from the edge of his vision, and looked at his Mother. She had gone back down to the yogurt shelve and had begun to take them out and place them on the floor, shuffling them around until they were in a place or pattern that Spencer would've caught if he wasn't worried about how to hold her down while forcing the pills in his hand down her throat. He turned around, deciding to try a trick that he'd done in the past, hoping she wouldn't remember it. Spencer went over to one of the open cabinets and reached for a cup, having to stand on his tip toes because the cups couldn't be clear or this wouldn't work. Spencer could practically _feel_ Dereks eyes on him, and his cheek bones went aflame. Once Spencer had the cup, he turned around and picked up the orange juice, pouring the right amount into the cup (1/3 of the way full). Next he grabbed a knife and for a split second caught Dereks eyes. Turning the knife on its side, he crushed the pills and silently put he powder into the cup of orange juice.

"So, Spencer are you going to introduce Derek to me or am I going to have to ask?" The fact that this was what a healthy Mother would say made his heart ache as she took the cup from him.

Spencer just sighed and did what he does best- he started to ramble, hoping to distract his mother enough to get her to drink from the cup. "Mother, this is Derek Morgan. Derek, this is my Mother Diana. Derek is part of the football team, and is whose house I've been-" he was going to say 'held captive at', but quickly thought better of it and said "at last night. I'm probably going to-"

After taking a long drink, his mother interrupted him. "So, this is your boyfriend? Funny, I remember him having hair."

Spencer made a noise in the back of his throat, and looked at his Mother in disbelief. "Well, no. Um- that-" he took a deep breathe and then continued. "That was just a friend. Anyway, how about we get you to bed, huh? I'm going to be at Dereks house for a few days." Spencer had put his mother to bed, and hid all the glassware before he even glanced over at Derek.

One thing was certain: Derek was pissed.


	13. Chapter Twelve

'Spencer has a boyfriend.' The thought kept going through Dereks head like a broken record. Silently, he began to re-stock the fridge after Spencer had left with his Mother. Reasonably, Derek knew he had no reason to be mad, after all Spencer wasn't exactly his, and he'd caught on to the fact that Diana was schizophrenic. So Derek didn't exactly know why he as so angry, but when Spencer rounded the corner in _his_ clothing, a fire was ignited in his belly he didn't exactly understand. Spencer was supposed to be his, not some other persons. But 'Spencer has a boyfriend' doesn't exactly sound like 'he'll wait for me' to Derek.

He met Spencer's eyes and without a word walked past him and grabbed his book bag, shifting its weight from one hand to the other. Derek took a deep breathe before he turned back around and looked at Spencer.

"I'm sorry about your Mother. I got an aunt that's schizophrenic. That's why my parents are never around. I-" Derek took a deep breathe because, _fuck_ , he does not want to say this bit- "I understand if you'd rather be here. I'll go grab your things from my house and we can forget these past two days ever happened." That last bit was a lie though, because Derek knew he'd dream about last night for the next five years at least. Tears were threatening to arise because to Derek this definitely sounded like an end to whatever he wanted this to turn into, and the back of his throat was getting sour and it kind of hurt to breathe when he thought of never getting to hold Spencer like he did last night. Derek felt the bag being taken from his hands, and felt a hand pull his chin up from his chest, making his and Spencers eyes meet.

"And what if I don't want to?" Spencer quietly whispered, and Derek could feel the air from Spencers words hit his lips in puffs. Dereks hands flew up to Spencers face so quickly he didn't even realize he had done it. He gently slammed Spencer backwards until he was against one of the bookshelves an lifted him up until he was forced to wrap his legs around Dereks waist and for a few seconds Spencer looked even more like an angel with this long air slowly turning from dark yellow to red-orange that was splayed out, his lips slightly parted. Spencers brown eyes were wide with shock, because _pleasepleaseplease don't let this be a dream-_ Derek and Spencer stayed like that for an eternity, just looking into one another's eyes and taking in one another completely, both burning the sight of the other into their brains. they were still cupping one another's face, and Spencer moved his to the back of Dereks head, moving them even closer. Derek knew what Spencer was doing, and reacted by moving his own hands to the back of Spencers, slightly pulling at it almost as if telling Spencer that _he_ was the one in control, and was delighted by the sound Spencer let out in response. Derek bit at Spencers elongated neck (because he was still pulling his hair) delighted by the sounds that kept dripping out of Spencers mouth like honey, and kept biting, sucking, and licking at the now-purple spot he had created. Spencers dull nails dug into Dereks shoulders as he pulled away, slowly disconnecting their bodies from one another.

"But-Wh- _Why?_ " Spencers voice was low and gravely and whiny, clearly being disappointed about how the situation had ended.

"Pretty boy, I'm hurt you think I would go further than that without even going on a first date."


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Derek had left Spencer with Clooney, and boy was he having a good time. In the back of his head trickled the invitation Derek had given him, but seeing as they hadn't even went on a date that felt much to quick for him. 

Spencer's face went aflame as Derek opened the door for him at Culvers. Though that had nothing to do with Derek's gesture of kindness, and everything to do with a certain secret. The person at the cash register was a woman in her early twenties and she smiled at the two like she knew they were on a date. They both got the kids meals- " _Because who's passing up ice cream,_ " as Derek had said. After placing their orders, Spencer and Derek turned to find a place to sit. In the end the two decided on a booth in the back where hopefully nobody would interrupt them. Derek sat in the seat where he could see the people, and for that Spencer was grateful. 

It had come to the part of the date where they should be talking, but at this point Spencer was at a loss for words. Suddenly talking about the weather and school seemed trivial. 

"Did you know that the first Culvers restaurant opened in Sauk City, Wisconsin in 1982?"

Derek's eyes twinkled in amusement. "Well, did you know that your hair is beautiful?"

Spencer's face flushed, and a bright red blush formed on his cheekbones. "Uh-um. Thanks." He didn't know how to respond, seeing as he'd never actually been complimented on his looks before. 

"Want to know something else?" Spencer swallowed thickly, anticipating what Derek would say, but nodded anyway. Derek took a breathe as if he was going to say something really important, but instead he muttered a, "Shit." Seeing as that wasn't anything Spencer expected, his eyebrows raised and dread filled his stomach because why was Derek staring right behind him?

When the world answered his question, a lump of dread formed in his stomach. 

He would know those sounds from fifty miles away- never mind the inaccuracy of the statement- and would usually start walking faster. 

The football team just walked through the door. 

Spencer couldn't breathe. His once deep breathes of oxygen became short little intakes. Derek eyed him and said something else Spencer wasn't prepared for. "Get down on your knees. _Hide_."


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this is the incomplete chapter. So far, I have given up on this work, sorry to dissonant anyone.

Spencer didn't hesitate to do as Derek had said, and in any other case Derek would totally be turned on, but this was several times of sideways. The rest of the team quickly realized that he was sitting in the booth and loudly joined him. While they were walking over, Derek quickly scribbled something on a napkin and dropped it. Then he scrambled up and met the team half-way.

Seeing as Derek most definitely just dropped that hint- quite literally- on his head, he read what it said quickly. 

_'You sneak out, get back to my place. I'll be a while- keys under he door ledge. I'm_ so _sorry. I'll make it up to you, promise'_

Spencer had to take a few deep breathes before assessing the situation. There was a door right next to the booth that wasn't an emergency exit, so he decided that one will be the best. The boys were the loudest thing in the restaurant, so Spencer told himself that nobody would notice him bolting to it. 

Still down on all fours, Spencer maneuvered out of the booth. Once he was clear of the table and surrounding chairs, Spencer stood upright and calmly, but quickly, fled to the door and opened it. After making his way down the drive, Spencer stopped and took several deep breathes. Within the span of fourteen hours, the past eight years of his life have been scrambled around like eggs on a stove top on the highest setting; and hen thrown back upright in the span of fifteen minutes. 

The good news was that most of Spencer's questions had been answered without conversation of any kind happening. Turns out that whatever he had thought the two had created truly didn't mean enough to even try to defend, let alone go public about; and whatever 'this' was would only happen behind closed doors, that was if it truly wasn't a rouse. Which made Spencer question if he should follow 'orders' and possibly walk into yet another beating, or should deny the words and risk leaving something that would hurt them both. Spencer had truly had something of a severe crush on Derek for the span of several years, and to throw it away because of one instance would be so... wasteful wasn't quite the right word, but he couldn't find another one. Plus, factoring in the little bit of action in the... session earlier would truthfully set Spencer back years in the span of an hour.


End file.
